


Confessions of a Dragon Prince

by FlaireMurasawa



Series: Confessions of (Click to Complete) [2]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Fluff, Introspection, M/M, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 03:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaireMurasawa/pseuds/FlaireMurasawa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Darkmoon Faire date, and Wrathion evaluates his relationship status with Anduin Wrynn.  Originally posted on fanfiction.net.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Main

Inspired by lambylingames.tumblr.com, who made posts about Anduin and Wrathion going on Darkmoon Faire dates. I ran with it.

Anduin’s and Wrathion’s stances on Hearthstone taken from DoomGirlMeg’s comics on deviantart.

A/N: Because of the fast pace of Confessions of a Stormwind Prince, I had to gloss over the complicated nature of Wrathion and Anduin’s relationship. The Faire date takes place before February in that story, while the epilogue takes place before the last part of that story (if that makes sense).

Disclaimer: I am making no profit from this work. Warcraft and all of its associated products belong to Blizzard.

____________________________________________________________

“The Darkmoon Faire’s back in town! Have you gone yet?”

Taken aback by the question, Wrathion said the first thing that popped into his head. "No."

“Great!” Anduin beamed. “Let’s go together!”

He practically skipped out the door, an amazing feat considering he’d been on crutches not long ago. Wrathion hadn’t even had time to protest. He had absolutely no interest in the Darkmoon Faire. There was nothing a carnival could offer that could help him achieve his goals. Indignant that the blonde just assumed he would come along, Wrathion stomped down the stairs.

“Anduin Wrynn!” he began, but found he was being ignored in favor of Tong.

“What’s in it?” the blonde was asking the fixer, an open steamer between them.

“Pork.”

“Sounds great. Those noodles look delicious, too.”

Tong surveyed the room to see if any breakfasting Pandaren were within hearing range, before divulging, “Those are not noodles.”

Wrathion slammed his hand down on the table, nearly splashing Anduin’s tea. “Anduin Wrynn!” he repeated. “I must speak with you about this Darkmoon Faire business.”

“I plan to hit up all the games, if that’s all right with you. I haven’t been since this,” Anduin gestured at his leg, “happened. The first thing I’m going to do is eat a deep fried candy bar, then I’m going to spend some of these prize tickets I have saved up. What do you want to do when we get there?”

Wrathion turned his up nose and began helping himself. “I don’t want to go. A faire is a distraction for weak-minded people to make themselves feel better about their disappointing lives.”

Anduin paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth. “That’s harsh, Wrath. It’s not like you don’t like to have fun every once in a while. I swear you only make your champions bring you sigils to see if they’ll actually do it.”

“Not true.”

“There is no way you need that many.”

“Like you know what it takes to craft gems from rocks,” Wrathion retorted. “Today’s Pandaren Challenge menu is pretty tame. These noodles are strange, though.”

Anduin grinned. “Those aren’t noodles. They’re jellyfish.”

Wrathion stared at his plate in numb shock as Anduin continued, “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I always go by myself anyway—I just thought it’d be nice to not be alone for once.”

Wrathion never did anything for just one reason. Sure, saving the world from the impending invasion always had a priority, but there were many ways in which to do it. When he first befriended Anduin Wrynn, it was under the premise that if he supported the Alliance, he would have a valuable ally, and if he supported the Horde, he would have a valuable hostage.

That explained nothing of why he was now standing just inside of the portal to the Darkmoon Faire, with Anduin holding the reins of two Hawkstriders.

“Race you down?”

The Darkmoon Hawkstriders were old, slow and just plain undignified to be seen on. That didn’t stop Wrathion from directing his over the edge of the path to land just in front of Anduin’s at the gate.

“That’s cheating!”

“You should have stated the rules when you issued your challenge. As such, I am the victor.”

“Fine. I’ll buy the tokens.”

There was the sense of fairness and justice that the Alliance prince was so lauded for. Those qualities intrigued Wrathion, as they learned more about each other during their extended stay at the Tavern in the Mists. Anduin’s foolish ideals of peace and righteousness were in stark contrast to Wrathion’s more realistic stance on doing what needed to be done. It was strange how two people with the same goals could approach them so differently. He started spending more time with the blonde, sharing their meals and playing their games. Wrathion wanted to know what it would take for Anduin to abandon his ideals, to see what he would do when the world failed to live up to his expectations. 

Wrathion wanted to be there when Anduin Wrynn broke.

“Stop hitting the babies!”

“They all look the same!”

He shook off the disorientation and charged back into the game area, swinging his mallet at the first thing he saw. Luckily, it happened to be a hogger, and Wrathion smirked as his score ticked up. Something popped up from the barrel behind him, and he whacked it.

With a poof, he was teleported outside the game area.

“The babies are the cute ones, and the gnolls are the ugly ones!”

“They’re all ugly!”

In the end, he was soundly beaten, his twelve points to Anduin’s thirty-two.

“You’ll do better at the next one,” the blonde insisted.

“People willingly get into that thing?” Wrathion asked in disbelief when he saw the cannon.

Anduin wasn’t blindly optimistic. He was just as stubborn as Wrathion himself, and went out and fought for those pretty lies he was always spewing. Compared to facing down Garrosh with no weapon but his words, locating a board game where both players won was a walk in the park. It soon became evident that Anduin was using the game as a medium to sway Wrathion to his point of view. His strategy was smart, diplomatic and mildly duplicit. Curious as to how far Anduin was willing to go, Wrathion played along, intending to beat him at his own game.

They hadn’t won a single match of Jihui to date.

“You’re quiet,” Wrathion observed after he collected his prize tickets. “Not going to call me a cheater?”

Anduin shrugged. “A lot of people slow-fall or levitate to the target. Turning into a dragon and flying the rest of the way isn’t any different.”

“But you don’t do that.”

“Of course not.”

Anduin was considered handsome by human standards—blonde hair, blue eyes, youthful face, healthy build. With all the time they were spending together, he couldn’t help but notice. The way he radiated happiness, how he eagerly approached every challenge—Anduin was a force that was at once deceptively gentle and incredibly strong, and before he knew it, Wrathion was drawn in.

“What is that?” Wrathion shamelessly jabbed a finger in the direction of a purple, spinning monstrosity of an attraction.

Anduin perked up. “You’ve never rode a carousel before? Everyone has to, at least once.” 

While Anduin purchased their admission, Wrathion observed the passengers. “This is for children,” he realized.

“Adults go on it, too,” Anduin said. “I haven’t been on this in a long time myself. It’ll be fun.”

Wrathion crossed his arms. “I refuse to partake in frivolities designed for children.”

“You’re two-”

“In dragon years!”

“-you’re still a child.” Anduin stuck his tongue out. “It’s not going to kill you to act your age.”

“I suppose. You’ve managed to avoid an untimely demise, so far,” Wrathion grumbled at Anduin’s back.

“Wrathion, can you help me up? This step is too high.”

This boy was just running around bashing at stuffed gnolls with a mallet. Wrathion rolled his eyes and boosted him onto a wyvern. The merry-go-around had several mount options, including a ugly, badly-built green one.

“What is this? A grasshopper?”

“I think it’s a murloc.”

He chose a rocket instead. The ride started, slowly gaining speed and making the children shriek with delight. The wind blew the loose strip of his turban back. It hadn’t seemed that fast from the outside. He was beginning to see the appeal, watching their surroundings blur by. Anduin gave him a cheeky grin. 

Wrathion had been smiling.

He schooled his expression back into a scowl, but the damage had been done.

The ride was over in minutes. Wrathion practically jumped off to put as much distance between him and Anduin as possible, but the Alliance prince caught up and nudged his shoulder. Of course he was able to get off the carousel by himself.

“So…”

Wrathion gritted his teeth.

“…I have tickets for one more ride. Want to go again?”

Wrathion was smart. He was naturally studious, a fast-learner, well-read and had a memory like a steel trap. He could strategize with the best of them, and his magic and combat abilities were a match for anyone. The black dragon was a strong leader, and had gathered a small army of followers around himself.

He accomplished all this at two years of age.

“I’m hungry,” he complained after their second ride. “I believe you mentioned something about food?”

“Oh yeah, Faire food is the best! You can’t get this stuff anywhere else!”

“You don’t say?” 

He followed the blonde to the food stand and scanned the menu. It was some pretty unique fare—among the options were pickled kodo foot and crunchy frog. If his stomach hadn’t been fortified by a diet of Pandaren cuisine, he might have balked. “A lot of it looks good.”

“One of everything!” Anduin cheerfully ordered, slapping some golds on the counter.

Whoa. “I never agreed to this.”

“You couldn’t pick, so why not try it all?” The blonde widely grinned. “I always wanted to do that, but there’s no way I can eat that much by myself.”

Wrathion brought a hand to his mouth in an exaggerated gasp. “You had an ulterior motive for inviting me all along. How scandalous.”

“Yes, my intentions are less than honorable. Beware, for I will besmirch your figure.” 

The portions turned out to be small for the price. They would definitely polish off everything between the two of them.

“First things first, deep fried candy bar!” Anduin announced, brandishing said treat at the other boy.

Wrathion took a bite, and choked on the powdered sugar it was practically caked in. He spat up a little dragon fire, incinerating the offending granules.

“That was excessive,” he coughed.

Through books and observation, Wrathion learned of a lot of things he never experienced for himself. He spotted the telltale signs of emotions he never felt in other people, and used the knowledge to predict their actions and control the outcome. He knew what love was. He felt it briefly when he was still an egg, and for a short period of time after he hatched. His personal encounters with love were limited, but one fact was engraved on his heart.

Love was something you died for.

“We need more tokens,” Anduin remarked.

“More tokens, you say?” inquired a creaky voice. A Forsaken stood behind them. “I can give you some free tokens if you’re willing to do an old carnie a favor.”

“Ugh, back off, sicko,” Wrathion cut off whatever polite, half-hearted thing Anduin was about to say, took him by the arm and steered him back into the rest of the Faire proper. 

“Do creepy guys normally lurk in remote corners asking teenagers for favors here? Is that a thing?”

“It’s fine. Not like we both wouldn’t have lit him up. Besides,” Anduin continued, at Wrathion’s incredulous look, “the security here is good, since it’s a sanctuary. I’m sure someone’s giving that man a stern talking-to, right now.”

“If by ‘someone,’ you mean ‘SI:7,’ and by, ‘talking-to,’ you mean, ‘arresting,’ then I have no doubts as to our safety.” Wrathion wasn’t blind.

“When I said, ‘someone,’ I actually meant, ‘Blacktalons,’ and by, ‘talking-to,’ I meant, ‘beating up.’” Apparently, neither was Anduin.

They burst out laughing.

“I wonder who got to him first!”

“They’re probably drawing straws for it!”

The dragon threw an arm around Anduin’s shoulder. “Next round of tokens are on me.”

Wrathion would not die for Anduin Wrynn.

He was the sole uncorrupted member of the Black Dragonflight, whose duty was to protect Azeroth from danger. Anduin may stand for world peace, but if it came down to black and white, he was the prince of the Alliance, which represented half—maybe less than half—of the world as a whole. 

The world was therefore more important than Anduin Wrynn, simple as that.

“Not again!” Wrathion cried in dismay when his tonk blew up.

An unhappy grunt beside him signified that Anduin’s met the same fate.

“Where are these zeppelins coming from? I didn’t see any nearby,” he raved, taking up the controller when his tonk finished reforming.

Anduin pressed the boost button. “Take it easy, it’s just a game-” he cursed when his tonk was blasted to smithereens.

“Such language. I’m shocked at-” boom “These controls stink!”

They did much better at the shooting game, each scoring a handful of prize tickets. Wrathion was about to suggest they play again, when he spotted something more interesting than any Faire game had to offer.

“Pet battles! Time to make someone cry,” he smirked, hands out for a summoning spell.

Anduin grabbed his wrist, interrupting the cast. “Not when you’re with me. Remember, you do pet battles in your own time, and I’ll play Hearthstone in my own time.”

“Pets are still better than cards,” Wrathion pouted, but allowed himself to be lead away from the arena.

To Wrathion, Anduin was unpredictable. That fact that he’d kept a consistent pattern of sheer goodness and understanding where logically anyone would have given up threw off everything Wrathion knew. What made sense to Anduin made no sense to Wrathion, and vice-versa. He defied every expectation.

If there was choice between him and the world, Wrathion was sure Anduin would find a third option.

Anduin hadn’t been kidding about the sanctuary status of the Faire. They passed a draenei and a blood elf who appeared to be arguing, but without any of the usual bloodshed. 

Then a balloon vendor walked right past them.

Wrathion halted, which forced Anduin to stop. He followed his gaze to the cart, and the gnome selling balloons to excited children.

“I want one,” Wrathion stated, but avoided Anduin’s eyes.

Anduin knew better than to tease, and took his small victory for what it was. He came back with two balloons.

“Hold out your hand,” he said, and tied a balloon to Wrathion’s wrist. “That way we don’t lose them. Now, you do mine.”

Wrathion jerked his arm around experimentally. The balloon was yanked this way and that. Anduin tugged his balloon so it hit Wrathion’s. They bounced off each other with a “bung!”

“Wrathion, watch this!” Anduin rubbed his balloon back and forth over the top his head, then slowly let the balloon rise back up. His hair rose with it.

Wrathion giggled. “You look ridiculous, Anduin Wrynn.”

If he were honest with himself, his pool of reasons for humoring the blonde had dried up. He knew where Anduin stood, and had gained as much of his trust as he was ever going to get. As of now, he had no use for him. 

Wrathion had nothing to gain by continuing a relationship with Anduin Wrynn.

They raced, balloons streaming behind them, down the torch-lit path. Wrathion easily beat Anduin to the fortune-teller’s tent.

“Hey, I’m handicapped. You’re supposed to let me win!” Anduin whined, leaning heavily on Wrathion.

“Would you stop milking that?” Wrathion shoved him, dislodging the other boy. 

“Special price for couple’s fortunes,” the gnoll proclaimed.

“Um, sorry.” Anduin raked a hand through his hair and straightened his tabard. “Two fortunes, please.”

The fortune-teller shook his head. “Not two separate fortunes. You want a couple’s fortune—it is one fortune for your future together.”

“Oh.” They looked at each other, and blushed.

“We’ll take it,” said Wrathion.

They walked a little ways from the tent before opening the fortune slip. They read the words silently to themselves.

“That sounds nice,” Anduin commented.

Wrathion scoffed, “Naturally, that’s how he makes money. People will only pay if they’re told what they want to hear.” He searched for a wastebasket. “Hey, an arena! You know, I’ve sometimes wondered how a champion’s strength would fare against the might of black dragon.”

Wrathion gained Anduin’s smiles; his laughter; long debates over philosophy; different interpretations of history; Anduin looking at no one else but him. Flimsy rewards. He knew, from reading, that those were things people did when they were in love. However, Wrathion didn’t pine for him when he left to conduct business at Lion’s Landing; and if Anduin wanted something while Wrathion was seeing a champion, Wrathion made him wait—his work took priority. To top it off, Wrathion certainly wouldn’t die for him, so this wasn’t love.

Was there something in-between?

“That really was a slow moving turtle.”

“They can’t possibly be turning a profit on that game.”

“Want to go check out the prizes?”

“Sure!”

To Wrathion’s disappointment, he didn’t have enough tickets for a single thing he wanted.

“You have to save up over multiple visits, like me,” Anduin said casually, passing a thick wad of tickets to the booth worker.

Wrathion gaped. “How did you get so many?”

“I try to visit the Faire every month. Here, for you.” Anduin handed him the Darkmoon Zeppelin toy.

Wrathion’s face flushed. “Thanks. And I want a tonk, too.”

“I don’t have enough tickets for that.”

“Then let’s come back next month.”

Anduin heard exactly what Wrathion wasn’t saying. He beamed.

“Wait here a minute.” Wrathion went to another prize booth, and returned with a Darkmoon Flower. “It’s the only thing I can afford,” he elaborated, thrusting it at the blonde.

“Thank you, that’s sweet.” Anduin pinned the bloom to his shirt, and gave Wrathion a kiss.

This was the first time Wrathion felt like this about anyone. He had no previous experiences to compare his feelings against. Sometimes he thought he cared too much, others he didn’t think he cared enough. How much should he listen to Anduin, and how much should Anduin listen to him? If one became more like other, was that influence or brainwashing? Did it take strength to work together, or mean they were individually weak?

He was afraid of what would happen if one day he found someone he cared for more strongly than he already did for Anduin Wrynn.

Wrathion had mixed feelings about the zoo.

“I’m going to poke it.”

“I am not healing you if it disintegrates your finger.”

Pouting, Wrathion backed away from the green slime creature.

Gleok the Untameable was a fearsome, three-headed beast—or would have been, if he wasn’t sleeping. Boring.

The basilisk was a different story. Wrathion would have ignored the cheap sign reading, “Please avoid eye contact,” if it weren’t for the careless carnie on the floor of the enclosure. While Wrathion looked anywhere but at the large reptile, he nearly missed Anduin climbing into the pen. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“That man needs help!”

“You’re going to get yourself paralyzed along with him.”

“Nnn…nn nnnn,” a muffled voice protested.

The pair froze mid-squabble, Anduin shoving at Wrathion’s face, Wrathion pulling at Anduin’s shirt.

“Er…are you sure?”

“N-nl nnnr nnn…nn n nnnt.”

“If you say so.”

To Wrathion’s relief, Anduin returned to the safe side of the fence. Just then, a guitar riff blared over the speakers.

“It’s the Elite Tauren Chieftains!” Anduin cried in delight. “I love these guys!” 

“Anduin Wrynn, you continue to surprise me,” Wrathion muttered, as he followed him not into the stands, but the mosh pit.

“What?!” Anduin shouted.

“Nothing!” Wrathion yelled back.

It was head-pounding loud, uncomfortably crowded, and the prince of the Alliance was jumping up and down to the chorus.

“Come on!” Anduin clasped Wrathion’s hands in his. “Dance with me!”

“In no way does this meet any definition of, ‘dance!’” he protested, but jumped with him anyway.

“What?!”

“You look idiotic!”

“What?!”

Wrathion gave up.

His ears were still ringing after the last chord faded, which is how he missed the bang of the first firework going off. They did see the flash, and a red firework lit up their surroundings. The sky exploded in green soon afterwards, then white. As the show continued, the pair drew closer together, until they stood with both of Anduin’s arms around Wrathion, and Wrathion’s hand at Anduin’s waist. The last rocket sent a shower of sparks cascading into the night.

Wrathion had no idea what he was doing with Anduin Wrynn. He couldn’t predict if they would make it to the end of the world together, or crash and burn long beforehand. He was far from his worst option—in fact, he couldn’t name anyone better. If this relationship didn’t pan out, it was the least of his worries about the future.

He might as well do this “boyfriend” thing properly.

\-----------------------------------------------------------

His excursion to the Darkmoon Faire had been more exhausting than Anduin was willing to admit to anyone, especially Mishka. If she discovered any signs of fatigue, he was going to be condemned to bed rest for another month at least. He had been so tired the night before that he barely managed to change before collapsing in bed. He slept pretty deeply, too—he didn’t notice Wrathion joining him.

Now it was morning, and he was spooned up behind Wrathion, wide-awake. He had an arm looped around Wrathion’s chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The other boy was still asleep.

He slowly, carefully, moved his hand lower.

Within minutes, Wrathion was writhing, grinding his rump against Anduin’s erection.

“Nngh…ah…again? I didn’t think you’d be ready to go again so…aah…soon, after last night.”

“Hm?” Anduin flicked his tongue at the back of Wrathion’s ear, and smiled as his breathing hitched. “What do you mean?”

“Unh…last night. You were great. Vigorous.”

“You probably dreamed it,” Anduin dismissed, dropping a kiss on Wrathion’s neck.

Wrathion rolled so they were facing each other. “I did not dream this,” he insisted, and pointed.

Just above his collarbone was a fresh love bite.

“I did that?” Anduin said, dumbly.

His partner looked at him questioningly. “You woke me up in the middle of night. We had phenomenal sex. You were very aggressive. You don’t remember?”

“No, I was really, really tired last night, I-I-” a terrible possibility dawned on him, “I had sex with you in my sleep.”

Wrathion stared. “What.”

“I had sex with you in my sleep,” Anduin repeated, with growing horror. “Like sleepwalking, except it’s sleep-sexing…”

“That’s not even a word.”

“I’m a nymphomaniac.”

“I’m not complaining.”

“You should stay away from me, before I’m unable to control my urges!”

Wrathion facepalmed. “Every time…”

__________________________________________________________-

A/N: “Might as well do this properly” is the phrase Wrathion uses to try to convince himself that he’s not doing something just to make Anduin happy.


	2. Epilogue

Wrathion hadn’t been to the Darkmoon Faire since he aided in Garrosh’s escape.

He hadn’t done a lot of things since those last, heated words he exchanged with Anduin. They used to go to the Faire every month, on the second-to-last day it was open. Each time, they intended to go earlier, but with their hectic schedules based on appearances by champions and missives from Stormwind, it was always put off until the second-to-last day.

Once again, due to extraneous circumstances, Wrathion was at the Darkmoon Faire on the second-to-last day it was open.

“I couldn’t make it any earlier either,” a familiar voice wafted from behind him.

Wrathion’s posture stiffened, but he tried to keep his tone light. “It’s a curse.”

A hand came to rest on Wrathion’s shoulder. “I see didn’t bother to disguise yourself.”

“I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve done, and besides,” he took that hand in his and turned so they were face-to-face, “this is a sanctuary.”

Wrathion let go of his hand, and stepped backwards.

Anduin looked no worse for wear. In reality, they hadn’t been apart for as long as it felt.

“You’re right. The Alliance can do nothing to you here.” The blonde took a step forward, and Wrathion took another step back. “Wrath-”

“Don’t. You wouldn’t understand.”

Anduin halted his advance, taking in the dragon’s defensive stance. “I’ve missed you.”

Wrathion’s eyes grew suspiciously bright, and he looked away.

“I see you’re here for the race,” Anduin tried. “You could never resist a game.”

“I resisted one,” Wrathion glared. “I didn’t come for the opening of the Firebird’s Challenge.”

“But two games were too much for you.”

The dragon deflated, just a little. “Yes,” he admitted.

Anduin sighed, rubbing his right leg. “Look, I’m not going to ask you anything weird. We’re both just here to have fun.”

Wrathion chuckled, “I was hoping you wouldn’t show up.”

“I was hoping you would.”

Anduin couldn’t help it—he started laughing too. They erupted into hysterics, and then Wrathion was in his arms and tears were in his eyes.

“Why?” Wrathion hiccupped, scrubbing his face with the back of his sleeve.

“If I’m not going to ask anything weird, you can’t either.”

“Agreed.”

Maybe there was something to that dumb fortune after all.

\------------------------------------------------------

Omake:

“What did they do with that turtle?”

“It has to be magic-enhanced. Hey, let’s take a selfie.”

*snap*

“Hashtag treason,” Wrathion suggested.

Anduin took the camera out of his reach. “Too soon.”


End file.
